THE BIKE HIKE
© 2003, Tina L. Curtis
The Bike Hike was a French Crik memory full of adventure, at least it was in the mind of three young girls. My sister, Tammy, a neighbor girl, Jackie, and I enjoyed walking at the crik. The older we became the more we wanted to explore.
Wattsburg is a small town with only twelve blocks of homes and small businesses but it is flanked by two branches of French Crik, the east and west branch. The east branch is where we have done most of our exploring as youngsters because the crik was practically in our back yards. Actually, it was in our back yards each spring when the water became high from the April rain and melting snow.
But on one particular summer day, we decided to explore the west branch. This branch extended behind our middle school and behind the length of the Main Street business district until it exited town on the south end of Main Street. To get into or out of town, a bridge had to be crossed over this branch. It was on the north end of town that we explored that day playing along the crik behind the school and eventually standing on the busy bridge watching the water pass beneath our feet. It was at this point that we saw the beginning of our quest.
I'm not sure who saw it first, but someone's eye caught the glimmer of something in the water below. We couldn't tell what it was so the three of us hopped the guardrail and climbed down the grassy embankment to the edge of the crik. The glimmer had come from the frame of a boy's dirt bicycle. There were no handlebars, tires, rims or chain on the bike. It was strictly the frame but Jackie decided she wanted that bike. She didn't have her own bike and knew she'd probably never get one. She was industrious and figured she might be able to get her father to help her build one out of this frame. But how to get it.
It was the beginning of summer before the water was quite warm enough to go for a swim or even to wade. Besides, we weren't sure how deep the water actually was. None of us were allowed to get wet so we had to figure something else out.
I'm not sure who thought up the idea but we decided it would be best to come back with tools to get the frame out of that crik. Unfortunately, when we returned home, we were all called in for supper so we couldn't return that day. The plot of our quest thickened as we decided that Jackie should spend the night with us to plan ahead.
After supper we were permitted to go outside for a short time...until the street lights came on at the end of our driveway...that was the rule. We ventured out to Dad's large block garage where he had everything we could possibly need to retrieve that bike. We found an old hay hook and a rope that we secured and took to the house for an escapade that we decided could not wait until morning.
We set up our sleeping bags in the basement "pool room" named such because of the pool table there. We also secured a couple of flashlights for the midnight endeavor. We spent the evening goofing off in the basement as we always did during our sleepovers. We listened to songs on the record player, played pool, told jokes, and talked "girl talk".
Finally, when we realized the house was quiet upstairs, we gathered our equipment and jackets and sneaked out the basement door. The hardest part was getting past Jackie's house since her parents stayed up much later than ours. We had to cross the large churchyard across the street from her house, which was well lit by the streetlights. We managed by running until we couldn't breath and were out of sight behind the trees in the churchyard.
We walked the rest of the five blocks to our destination with our hearts beating fast. This was the most adventurous undertaking of our young lives. We had no idea how it would end.
The crik and the bike were just as we had left them waiting for our return. We tied the rope to the handle, which was like a loop at the end of the large hook. Our plan was to simply snag the frame and drag it out of the water. It took several tries but we finally managed to get it. We were excited.
Now to get home. We had to take the same route home without getting caught. Had we been smart, we would have circled around the back of the block and ended up at the back door of the basement, but we didn't. We once again ran through the largest, most well-lit open space in the area that was in direct sight from Jackie's kitchen window.
Of course, we didn't know we'd been caught until the next day. We exalted all night about our success only to find out the next day that we were grounded...from each other and from going outside.
Though we were all punished, Jackie still did get the chance to build that bicycle she wanted. She was the envy of every boy in town. They watched as she and her father spent her time of being grounded building that bike from the ground up. It took longer than the two weeks of the grounding period since her father insisted that she earn the money for the parts herself but it was worth it. That bike had a black finish with silver specks; and the best in-style, yellow, plastic rims; and handlebars that were all style with new grips and the special padding that goes on dirt bikes for racing purposes.
We had our adventure and Jackie had her new bike. It had all been worth the trouble...and the fun!
